


Musings

by Macx



Series: Fire and Ice [9]
Category: Knight Rider (1982)
Genre: Alternate Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-12
Updated: 2011-05-12
Packaged: 2017-10-19 07:54:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/198612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macx/pseuds/Macx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a reflectionary piece about two human drivers and their AI cars</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Musings

It was five a.m., the time the sun rose over the old harbor area, bathing the old warehouses in the first lights of dawn. He had been woken by the pain in his shoulder where just a few days ago, a bullet intended for his heart had torn into flesh and bone. He was healing, but as always, it was painful. Another scar to the collection. Another memory better forgotten.  
No one lived in this area but him. He had been here for several years now, and never had anything changed. Until not too long ago. His gaze swept over the sturdy brick walls as he leaned against the railing that separated the gallery floor from the drop below. The ground level was one gigantic hangar-like garage. The floor was clean swept and bathed in the first rays of light, coming from high above. The smoke-colored windows and sky-lights were enough to light up the place on a sunny day. He felt his eyes drawn to the two black cars that looked almost lost and alone in the vastness, surrounded partially by the computer stations and work benches. A couch, old and battered, sat to the right of them.  
Two cars. Not one. For a long time, it had been two now. Different models, but both black. Different personalities, but incidentally coming from the same basic programming.  
He turned away and let his eyes wander over the living space behind him. It was the same as always. The computer area that took up a large part of the wall, the potted plants near one of the smoked windows, the couch, the TV, everything. Still, there were changes. A jacket had been carelessly draped over one of the couch chairs. It wasn’t his. The remains of the pizza and beer night were clearly visible. He smiled. Signs of another human presence in this building.  
Over two decades ago he had started a life. Alone. Always alone. There was no one but him, no one else to take care of. Never leave a trace of your existence, he had been taught. He hadn’t existed, there had been no traceable presence. He had had a name, but still, he hadn’t lived. If he had died back then, no one would ever have known about him. He had been a ghost, a shadow.  
Then Wilton Knight had stepped into his life, offering a way out of this cold world where he had to fend for himself, never knowing if the next day would be his last. He had grasped the straw offered to him. Still, he had been alone. He had been the only one selected, no one came too close to him, no one trusted him but the old man. What he had seen, it still eluded him today. He had been a human machine, programmed to kill, programmed to obey orders; he hadn’t known what humanity meant. But in the six months he had spent at the mansion, he had learned more than in the ten years of ruthless service and training. He had been the best Nash had ever trained, but he had failed the simple test of being human. Knight had not taught, but he had still learned.  
Then he had been introduced to another machine. His new partner. The experiment had failed; he had left. Alone again, but for the first time, not completely. Not long after that he had been forced to make compromises, to let someone else in, a being that was so much like him it had frightened him at the time. They had made arrangements for a co-existence at first, but the process of acclimatization had started. First there had been grudging respect, then worry when the other was in danger, and finally something akin to a partnership.  
Still, he wouldn’t have left any traces if he had left the world forever. He didn’t exist.  
Over three years ago, that had radically changed. He hadn’t wanted it, but it had happened. He had opened a part of him he hadn’t been aware still existed. He had made more compromises in the last two years than he ever had. Suddenly, he had left a mark. Suddenly, he wasn’t alone anymore. Neither of them was alone.  
He gazed at the signs of intrusion into his secluded, shielded world. For the life of it, he couldn’t think of the time before anymore. It was a hazy memory, full of pain and negative emotions. A time he wanted to forget so badly sometimes, it hurt. Loneliness despite knowing people, because no one had known him. He had never let anyone close, and he wouldn’t have let Michael Knight close if not for the blatant need to teach him. Teach him about the neuro implant, about control, about… himself. Telling him, through little hints, who he was.  
He smiled dimly and turned back to where the cars were parked. Descending the wrought iron stairs, he passed by the black TransAm and approached the Stealth. It was just as black, but it appeared darker. Maybe because the color wasn’t just in the visual spectrum, maybe because part of him, a very large part, was inside his mind. It had always been there, right from the start, but neither had acknowledged it. Now he was always drawn to it, seeking it, needing it there. Proving that it wasn’t a dream. It was his greatest fear. To wake up and find none of this had ever happened. He had dared to let his guard down, to hope, to dream, and he had become vulnerable that way. Still, he was stronger than ever.  
He sat down onto the fender, then slid further onto the midnight black hood. He had adopted this from Knight. Like he had learned a lot from him despite his efforts not to prolong his stay here. Three years now.  
And it would become more. He wouldn’t leave, he couldn’t. There was a lot he suddenly wanted to do, had to do. Teaching Michael about the implant was one thing; and he wasn’t actively teaching anymore anyway. Michael was learning, as was Kitt. They didn’t need him; at least not for that. Why did he stay then?  
Because he felt no longer alone. Because now he was learning something as well. About acceptance, about partnership, about love. Before Knight, there had been just the day-to-day existence, working on a level that was acceptable for both, but since Kitt had entered his life, he had been shown more. The link was more, it was an intimacy he had instinctively shied away from. An intimacy that was beyond comprehension, that defied boundaries, and no one but two people could ever understand it.  
He drew his hand over the smooth finish of the Stealth. A ripple passed through his mind and he smiled. An intimacy that had taken him beyond the realms of human thinking. It hadn’t always been this way, but now it was. The past was buried, though it would always be remembered, and the future was wide open for them. He was living, for the first time in his life, and he wasn’t feeding on anger and pain. He had accepted what had been and he accepted what was to come. He kept up the gentle massage of the car’s hood, feeling the presence in his mind grow, like rising out of a dark ocean. He embraced it, smiled as it returned the gesture, and no words were exchanged. Just images, feelings, emotional waves.  
This was him. Made up out of many parts that had finally fused together, forming something new. Something that should always have been. It had been a long time in the making. It was like a twisted kind of destiny. They had been made for each other, without either knowing the other existed. Both had been programmed, both had been alone, and now they formed a unit. And so much more. Beyond words, beyond everything. Michael understood, he could read the signs, just like he could read Michael. The light in his eyes, the flicker of a smile, the twitch of a muscle. It was all so very visible to the outside world, if you just knew how to look.  
He turned and stretched his legs out over the hood, leaning back against the cooler windscreen, arms crossed under his head. The shoulder wound twinged, and he ruefully removed one arm, letting it rest on the warm hood. His eyes stared at the skylight high above. The presence in his mind seemed to do the same, lean back, against him, silently keeping him company. He was grateful for it. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose this. They had been too close to losing each other too many times before. Back then, it had never mattered that much; now it was a fear neither wanted to think about too closely.  
His thoughts were echoed in his mind. He felt a silky, cool touch to his mind, and he smiled. It questioned wordlessly, he answered the same way. Sometimes, there was no need for words, just opening his mind, showing his partner what he couldn’t say. This was beautiful, this was perfection. No one could ever feel it like he did, not even Michael Knight. For him, Kitt was his own perfection. They were all different, like fire and water, like black and white, but they shared something so incredible, that they were the same.  
The link couldn’t be perfection, though; never had been intended that way. Despite the beauty is transmitted, it also channeled pain, despair and everything else a human mind was capable of. And the AI linked to it. Like the pain of a bullet harming the body of the more vulnerable human part. A long time ago, when he had been harmed, he hadn’t felt his partner react any more than with a brief shifting of his mind. That had gradually changed when he had found out that his own prime directive of self-preservation was intimately linked to the preservation of the life of the human he was bonded to. Since then, it had grown from reluctant acceptance to an incredible care.  
Almost warmth. Warmth in a way that wasn’t radiating an increased temperature, but that was defined by presence. He reached for the silky blackness, felt the tangles of his partner’s outer tendrils wrap playfully around his hand.  
<Thank you for being there> he simply whispered.  
<Thank you for accepting me>  
Nicholas MacKenzie smiled and he felt Karr reflect it. He closed his eyes and just enjoyed.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been an exceptionally uneventful month, Michael reflected as he stepped out from under the shower. A mysterious homicide case had turned out to be an angry colleague of the victim wanting the deceased’s job. An apparently kidnapped heir to a small fortune turned out to be a teenage runaway who wanted nothing to do with her parents. Puberty strikes back. And the Foundation fundraiser had been as boring as ever, with the one highlight of Quinn Campbell keeping him company throughout some very boring speeches. Even the discovery that Nick had been shot throughout what had sounded like a simple hacking stint was none too exceptional. They lived dangerous lives and injuries happened. Mostly through bullets, knives and whatnot.  
His life hadn’t changed much in that regard, Michael thought as he left his room and passed by the empty cardboard boxes on the couch table. There had once been a triple cheese and pepperoni pizza in one of them. It had made his mouth water just from the smell. Last night had been exceptional compared to what his life usually looked like. Just sitting there, watching TV, having pizza and beer, talking a bit. The life they lived, it was rare they had a quiet evening without Nick being online and hunting for clues or useful information, or Michael going over a case, talking to Devon or Bonnie, or trying to make sense of meager clues.  
In other areas of his life, things had changed profoundly in the last three years. And he regretted not a minute of it, be it painful or happy. The pain and joy always held each other equal. There was not too much of any of it. Too much pain skewered your view of life; too much happiness made you reckless and an easy target. Whatever the implant in his mind had made of him, he didn’t want it to change. It had brought him closer to his partner, and it had shown him there was so much more to life than what he had always thought was perfect already.  
Michael checked the time on the microwave oven clock and grimaced as he discovered that it was just after seven a.m. Too early to be up, but somehow he hadn’t felt much like sleeping anymore. He got himself some coffee from the already working coffee machine. That meant that Nick was up. No big surprise there. Hardly anything about his odd friend could surprise him. Nick was a person you couldn’t grasp, couldn’t define, and when you tried, he defied whatever you had tried to pin on him. Michael had gotten to know him better lately, had seen sides to the younger man that had been buried deep inside. Nick had opened up and he was slowly coming out of his shell.  
He was responsible for a lot of the good things that had happened to Michael, he mused as he sipped at the black coffee. He had been there to teach them about the implant, almost whipping them on every time they had faltered. Every time they had wanted to give up because of the pain and despair. In the end, it had been the right way. Go through with it, live and learn. He had never left them alone, had defended them with his life, and he had changed himself. Compared to the man Michael had worked with prior to the activation of the implant, this Nick was now almost human.  
He chuckled lightly. Nick would probably give him a glare if he ever mentioned it. He liked to cultivate this image of coldness. It was a defense. But looking back now, he saw all the little tell-tale changes. The evolution, so to speak.  
Michael left the kitchen and walked over to the rail, gazing down onto the ground floor. To his mild surprise, he saw Nick lying on Karr’s dark hood, eyes closed, his good arm curled under his head. It was a picture of perfect peace and unity, and Michael found himself smiling behind his mug. Nick hated to admit that he had changed in regard to Karr, but it was oh-so visible in little things. When they had met, the partnership between the AI and the man had been based on functionality and the need to work together because there was no other way. It had slowly turned into a partnership that showed openly, that gave Michael a view into the minds of the two people who had worked ceaselessly to give him and Kitt a chance. Nick and Karr had finished a bond that had been years in the making, finally making the last steps, opening themselves up without fear of pain to the other.  
It had astounded him to hear how close Karr had come to Kitt, and in the beginning, he had been angry, afraid, almost jealous. Why should this monster be allowed to share with Kitt what Michael shared as well? How dare this killer approach his partner? This had changed as well. Today, Michael knew that what he had met all those years back in the form of KARR, had not been what he had met again when the implant inside his mind had activated. There was a big difference, and Kitt had confessed to it as well. Karr would never be Kitt, but why should he? They were different, had been intended to be different. One was the prototype, the other the second generation. There was no rivalry; they knew who they were, what they were, and they knew their drivers.  
Change. So much change. And still, life was the same. Wasn’t it? The world turned, people woke up every morning, went to work, came home to a family, went to bad. Normality. It had so many definitions. Michael’s was this world. A world that consisted of artificial intelligences, chases through streets, fist fights, shots fired, espionage and mystery. Perfectly every-day normality, right?  
Without Karr and Nick, Kitt would be dead today. Michael would most likely be insane. Nothing of this would have happened, no development, no love like this. They would have given up before crossing the first bridge to cement this newly found closeness.  
Friends.  
Michael smiled. They had friends, different from everyone he knew, but friends he trusted with his life. With his sanity. Nick hadn’t left after the first crisis was over; at least never for a long time. He had always come back and somehow he doubted the former agent ever would as long as he thought anything could hurt them. As much as Michael fought against this protection, against Nick risking anything to keep them safe, he appreciated the thought. This protection had gotten him ownership of the car, had brought back Kitt from near-death and a death wish, and it had brought them here.  
He studied the other man down below. He had come to Wilton Knight almost the same way Michael had, except for the bullet to the head. He had been chosen by a man he hadn’t known before and offered a chance. Michael had had no choice but to take the chance. In a way, neither had Nick. Michael had watched his creator die, and back then the decision had been made to leave. When he had met Kitt, the decision had started to waver. At the end of their first case, he had been hooked. It had been that simple. He had never looked back, though it had been painful to make the transition from Michael Long to Michael Knight. New face, new identity, reborn. But the reward had been Kitt, and it was well worth it. It was worth all the scars and the pain.  
Something touched his mind and he smiled. This was worth everything. He would never give it up. It was like an addiction; he was a junkie. Wilton Knight had made him, had given him the implant, and he had died believing it to be a failure. It wasn’t. It was beautiful and alive, it was warm and infinitely more than everything Michael could have been offered as replacement. Kitt flowed around him and he let his fingers trail over the mental image of his partner. Pure white light; beauty; perfection.  
It was what he always thought. He knew he wasn’t alone in that. There were only two of them, but each was aware of what the mind at the other end of the implant meant. They had been made for the other, but still, they were individuals. Programs, who had developed beyond their initial perimeters. Artificial Intelligence that rivaled organic intelligence. Kitt was no computer for him; he was a person. He lived. He had the same dreams and fears, the right to exist. Others would never understand, but Michael didn’t care. The important people understood. It was what mattered.  
He pushed away from the railing and walked back into the kitchen, feeling hungry. There were French Toast, waffles and some other goodies in the freezer and fridge.  
//Make more// Kitt’s warm voice floated through his mind. //Nick’s coming up//  
He smiled. It was so incredible, so unreal, so much what he would never want to miss again. It wasn’t telepathy; it was a way to talk, to hear, even to see and feel that was beyond the human capability to verbalize. And it was theirs alone. Sometimes, when he touched Kitt, he thought he felt Karr. They were bonded as well, touching each other in a way only AIs could share a link. A personal link, not just one for communication. It was the touch Michael had been jealous of before, but one he now accepted wholly. He had seen Karr, but he had never really touched him. He couldn’t imagine what it was like for Nick to be linked to the dark, silky mass that was both threatening and hauntingly familiar in one.  
Made for each other. So true. Michael knew what value this gift held; he would always treasure it.


End file.
